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THE MIDNIGHT OF SATURDAY

By c j, www.PoetryPoem.com/heartunes    Unlock all Features - Upgrade to Poetry Prime

It's that time of night
To take my cowboy boots off
My skinny blue jeans
My Pendleton tee shirt
That Michael Booth
Made
Of a cowboy on
A bucking horse
It's the symbol of
My town I lived in
For 34 years
I wonder when
I'm going home for good

It's that time of night
When I must get my pills out
Take the strongest pain pill
Take the aspirin
And the antidepressants
The doctor increased last Monday
That have made me sleep and sleep
My doctor of those 34 years
Knows I've seen hell
As he tries to pull me towards heaven
With medicine and prayers
At least he cares
I am glad

It's that time of night
No man is in my bed
Neither am I
At my sister's tonight
Sleeping on a couch
Missing most of Saturday Night Live
Finding it a half hour late
I wait
For comedy to leaving me laughing
Instead of crashing
Into the doom and gloom
Of how I feel
Losing everything
That was life
And my real

It's that time of night
Other poets sing to me
On reverb nation
I try to post some songs of mine
But I don't know if it worked
As nothing seems to go as planned
I don't want to give my tears up
To the sea
But salt flowed today
That time of night
It's only me

It's that time of night
I must move on
To write heartunes song
Sing them to myself
Because I don't sing that good
But play guitar okay
Making music that takes me away
To another land
Where God is there
Holding my hand
Kissing my face
Leaving me with nothing
Except the grace of light
Shining from a world of right
Where nurses are not curses
When the nursing world is done
They are just the angels
The world couldn't take
Flying as spirits
Never again have to ache

Some other Midnight
On a Saturday
I will be gone
But have these poems to live on
As a part of me will stay
In this world
Day after day
Night after night
Someone will hold them to their minds
And feel my light
Warming the skin
So long untouched
When they could have loved me
In reality
But too selfish
Too afraid
To be laid
By a poet
Acting like a child
Needing a father person
To rehearse and rehearse in
Until I am well again
Won't you be my long lost friend
Here in the world of the living
I don't have much
But I have me
And until you come around to see
We don't have to be alone
I'll just be a lady
Without a home
A way to give through poetry
I'll give you my emotions for free
Someday they will be enough
In this Midnight of Saturday
Where I am lost
And the world is tough.


8/31/2014 0021 cj







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